


The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

by resqueln



Category: Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Action/Adventure, First Time, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-20 09:22:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/resqueln/pseuds/resqueln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Please note that this story is on hiatus for the moment, sorry!</p><p>Case fic.  Bond has to infiltrate a compound and destroy plans for a bioweapon before it destroys the world.  Simple, right?  Except that this time Q's in tow and Bond's under orders to get him out safe, at any cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a slow build, peeps. James/Q will be happening, but not until we're well under way.

The sand stung his eyes, dry and red raw from hours of looking through the scope. Somewhere overhead a buzzard cried out. The building in the distance was almost invisible, white stone camoflagued against the sand, glaring in the merciless sun. The window in his crosshairs remained dark and featureless. Still nothing moved.

He shifted carefully, easing the pressure on his side, careful not to move his eyeline. The makeshift bandage on his thigh pulled tight against his wound as he moved and James could feel the knife wound reopen, a dull and insistent throb in the heat. Fresh blood welled up, tickling his skin as it spread, soaking the already saturated bandage.

Somewhere over the hill, several miles away, Q was about to make his move. 

Bond took a deep slow breath, flexed his finger against the trigger and waited.

_London, MI6, One week ago_

“He’s waiting for you,” Moneypenny says, cutting off his standard attempt at sweet talk with an apologetic smile. 

James makes do with kissing her hand instead and she graces him with a quirked eyebrow before shooing him towards the door.

“Ah, 007,” M says, looking up from the file in front of him. Q is sitting in the chair by M’s desk, he grins warmly at James but look uncharacteristically apprehensive. There’s a laptop sat by Q’s elbow. 

“Sit down,” M says to James. “Mr Q, you can begin.”

Q hits a button on the laptop and then blue lines of light are spilling out across the desk in front of them, curling and shaping until they form the 3D outline of an island. James sits forward in his chair. The shape of the coastline, the topography of the hills, it’s all familiar and after a second the name comes to him.

“Los Santos,” he says.

“Yes, 007,” Q says, looking faintly impressed in a way that makes James want to smile. He keeps his face neutral while Q continues.

“You’ll be pretty familiar with the ruined compound there from the operation a few years ago. We’ve been monitoring it since then and by all outward appearances it’s pretty unexciting. Until you come to this -” 

Q presses another button and the image zooms in, over the sweeping lines of a mountain range to an unmistakably human construction – a small, squat building.

“By all outward appearances this is just a hut. A month ago we picked up some human activity, and shortly afterwards satellite images showed unusual heat patterns conducive with patterns shown by computer facilities. Since then we have had intelligence linking the Los Santos building to an underground group we have been monitoring. Do you remember the Aromage operation?”

He's scanning the island, already assessing it for access points, sheltered areas while Q's voice runs in the background. The direct question makes him look up. Q is looking at him intently, obviously waiting for an answer. 

“The bio-chemical weapons facility?” 

Q nodded.

“It was destroyed last year,” James said.

He hadn’t been part of the mission, but he’d heard about the fallout. Everyone had heard about the fallout: five agents had been lost, M had been livid.

“Before it was destroyed, data was sent out on a coded connection,” Q’s eyes slide back to the image. “We tried to track it, but - we lost it.” He frowns.

“You think that information is here?” James asks. 

“Yes.”

“So why not hack into it? Isn’t that what you do?”

“It’s not that simple. This facility runs on a dark net, a network that runs parallel to the internet. You can’t access it from a regular connection. You have to physically connect to a port in a location that is connected to the dark net.”

James nods. It sounds simple - too simple to explain the undercurrent of tension. He waits for the rest.

“There’s one other problem – “ Q says hesitantly, right on cue. “The security systems are likely to be incredibly sophisticated, too sophisticated for you to use a remote drive. You need someone with you who can crack the security.”

James glances at M who is sat back in his chair watching them, his fingers steepled. He does not look surprised.

“Can’t you instruct me over an ear piece?” James suggests.

“No. I need to be there in person,” Q says, and then adds with no little pride, “there are only three people in the world who could crack this, 007.” 

“Let me guess, you’re top of the list,” James says dryly.

Q grins.

With a creak of leather, M sits forward, bringing their attention back to him.

“You and Q will infiltrate the Los Santos facility and then return home with the data,” M says. “You leave tomorrow, I want this wrapped up as soon as possible.”

Gratifyingly, Q looks surprised. 

“That’s barely eighteen hours, that’s not nearly enough time,” he says, adding a hasty “sir,” at M’s sharp look.

“It’s all you have, Mr Q. Moneypenny will debrief you both at 1500 hours. I suggest you start making your preparations straight away,” M says in a tone of clear dismissal.

“Yes, sir,” Q says with only a hint of belligerence.

He gathers his equipment together and makes an exit, glancing quickly at James as he leaves. 

The door closes, leaving them alone. With a sigh, M reaches over to the crystal decanter and pours out two tumblers of something amber. He hands one to James.

“You’re not happy,” M says as an opening.

“Eighteen hours is not enough time to prepare for this assignment.”

M studies him consideringly.

“You’ve worked assignments with other agents on tighter deadlines than this before.”

“Field agents, not tech agents,” James says, knowing the importance of that distinction will not be lost on M. "He's not trained for this."

“Techs get basic field training, and he’ll have to pass the physical before you leave,” M says firmly, although there’s a telling twist to his lips that says he’s not happy either. “I’m sorry, 007, there’s nothing I can do. He’s the only man we’ve got for the job.”

He pulls a manila folder from a pile at his elbow and pushes it across the table.

“This is the case file. Some of the information is for your eyes only.”

Taking the file from the desk, James turns to leave only to be stopped by M’s voice.

“James -“ M hesitates, obviously unhappy with whatever he’s about to say. “Q is a valuable asset to MI6, we need him back alive,” a slight pause and then, “at any cost.”

James nods his acknowledgement. 

“Understood.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the delay between chapters! Final year of a degree is kicking my ass. 
> 
> I wrote and rewrote this chapter about 20 times. Despite my love of Eve Moneypenny, there was just no way to make a briefing interesting. Hence the shortness. :)

“Do you have contact lenses?” Bond asks him without preamble. 

“Hello to you too, 007.”

Bond taps the bridge of his own nose.

“Lose the glasses, they’re a sign of weakness.”

Peeved, Q sits back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Any other tips?” he asks acerbically.

Bond, damn him, just quirks an amused eyebrow.

“Stop shaving. Might make you look older,” he says with a smirk before casually pushing away from the door frame and wandering off.

-*-*

Bond’s waiting for him beside the gym’s exit, back against the door to the observation room obviously only recently vacated by Bond himself. Q is still slightly out of breath, flushed and untidy from the physical. 

“You fight well,” Bond tells him. 

Q doesn’t bother with false modesty.

“Yes.”

Bond nods.

“Your left side needs work.”

It was a constant criticism of his Wing Chun teacher at University, so in all probability Bond is correct. 

“What do you suggest?” Q asks.

Bond shucks his jacket.

“I’ll show you a few tricks.”

-*-*

“I do have work to do, you know,” Q says without looking up.

Bond is once more lurking in his doorway. Everyone else has gone home for the night and the open plan office beyond is dark and silent. 

“I know. Talk me through what you need to do,” Bond says.

“You won’t understand it,” Q says.

“Tell me anyway,” Bond says.

There’s no smirk this time, no amusement. Q sits back and looks at him for a long moment. 

Moneypenny had made it clear in the briefing that there was no plan B beyond the two of them. International tensions in the region prevented any overt action. Discovery would almost certainly pose an inconvenience to MI6 and a threat to the country. There would be no back up. If they were captured, their existence would be denied. 

He’s no fool. He knows this will be dangerous. What Bond's asking is to be prepared for an eventuality - to have a shot if Q can’t do the job himself. In case Q is captured, killed. His fingers tighten slightly on the arm of his chair and he forces himself to relax, irritated at his own reaction.

 _This is not new information_ , he tells himself. He glances briefly at the clock on the wall for distraction. Bond waits patiently. 

“I can give you an hour,” Q says.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been posted without beta because of my limited internet access. Apologies. It has also been posted as a WIP, something I try to avoid as a general rule, because of my limited time to work on fic atm. Apologies also for this.


End file.
